Open Season
by every-holmes-for-every-watson
Summary: "I remember how you always tasted of tea and biscuits, how you would lie and say how you were cutting yourself off when I knew you weren't. That's what I love about you." Sherlock reflects on how dearly he misses John after he passed, and how much he wishes he could bring him back. Johnlock! Warning: severe depression, implied character suicide.


**Sherlock's POV**

It's been one year, three months, six days, and 45 seconds since you left.

It's been one year, three months, and seven days since I last felt your lips touch mine.

It's been one year, three months, and eight days since we last made love while entangled in our bed sheets.

I am alone and I am done running away from the inevitable. There is no world where you are gone. Nothing is relevant, and nothing is worth anything. Sometimes I forget to eat, and surprise myself that you haven't reminded me yet. But then the memories come in, and I shove my fist in my mouth to stifle my sobs. You told me I'd be okay without you, you told me that I could make it through. I tried, John. I really did. I can't wake up with your side of the bed empty and cold, I can't close my eyes and be haunted by your figure. I can't live like this. I can't.

I shall accept Death with the brush of my lips. I shall feel my soul drip from my eyes, my mouth, and my fingertips. I shall not run, not hide in fear, but welcome Death as an old friend; I will embrace him and splurge myself in the feeling that I will finally be gone. That my soul will be flown, and all that shall be left of me is skin and bones. I have loved and lost, I have laughed and cried, I have wept the tears of a broken human. A malfunctioned human brutally tortured by the hands of reality and sentiment. My body shows of scars that blossom across my body, a trophy that reads how my body was a canvas for razors and the tingling feeling of alcohol whom has been there for me when no one else was. The color of the world stripped away, and soon I was left in black and white. I witnessed myself disintegrating and I lost my sense of who I was. Nothing was the same. Nothing was ever the same. I blame myself and everyone, and blame nothing at all. I was numb with sadness and yearning, and I burned with the sensation that I can not and will not be okay this time. Depression was swimming in my veins, I had Death whispering and rotting in my head, and I_ liked it._ It hurts for me to go outside because everywhere I look reminds me of how I loved you, and failed to save you from drowning within my heavy mind. I am trapped within these pale walls and I cannot _breathe. _I am withering away, I feel my leaves of sanity crumbling to the hard wooden floor and I cannot take much more of this.

Pictures lay around me, scattered around my carpet floor. Memories move within the cheep frames, and I felt a warmness sprout within my rib cage. I felt regret replace my bone marrow. I looked through how so much time could mean so short and small when you look back. It feels like yesterday when you and I made love within my bed sheets, laughing and living within our own world we created. I remember how you always tasted of tea and biscuits, how you would lie and say how you were cutting yourself off when I knew you weren't. That's what I love about you. _Love. _You have been gone, and I have been living within the past because I am afraid of this god awful creature I forged myself to be.

When I close my eyes, you become my vision. You become all of I dream, you become the entity that I believe in with my mind and soul. Sleeping is the only time I can recall myself being the closest to being happy again. I want to sleep forever, I don't want to wake up with the iron plate life hands to me.

Frank Sinatra is vaguely playing in the background, and I remember how we would dance late into the night. Kisses were shared, missteps were taken (you were never a good dancer, but that's what made you shine) and confessions were whispered. We left our impression on the world, I felt as if we could rule it.

I taste of bitterness and sorrow. Is it possible to overdose on the simple dosage of retention?

I don't want to forget anything about you. I don't want to forget how you always laugh at the word 'pudding' because you say it's "such an awful word, that you just can't help it." I don't want to forget how the sunlight bathes your skin in the early morning as you sleep. I don't want to forget the long clicks as you type your blogs about our cases. I don't want to forget your eye crinkles when you laugh so hard that you have to shut your eyes, and force yourself to breathe. I don't want to forget the sensations that vibrated down my spine when your fingers pull through my curls and your fingertips lightly rubbing my scalp. I don't want to forget how my fingers gently traced down your skin, and I was blessed with the sight of goosebumps bubbling over your skin. I don't want to forget your blue eyes and how much I could lose myself in there. I don't want to forget how you always wanted to live near the ocean, and how much I wanted to live that dream with you. I don't want to forget how it felt when we made love, and I would feel so much love and ecstasy that I felt like I would explode.

Oh, how I love you.

I know nothing will be the same anymore, I know nothing can make me relive the past, but for now, tea, cigarettes, and Frank Sinatra will be my occasional elixir.

I can't go back to the past, but god knows that I'll try forever just to be the closest to seeing your beauty shine again. I'll graciously wait until Death can put his hand on my shoulder and take me away. I hope he gets here before the CD track ends. That'd be nice.

I miss you.

* * *

_**Please review! Sorry if this gave you any feels, this made me tear up while writing it.** _


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